


Exit Through The Gift Shop

by fanfiction_fanfriction



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Graffiti, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 08:36:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1598498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfiction_fanfriction/pseuds/fanfiction_fanfriction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray is a graffiti artist with some issues at home that he takes out on designs sprawled along buildings. Joel has been in this game a lot longer, trying to get all of his baggage out so he can maybe have a functioning relationship. When Ray accidentally sprays over one of Joel’s pieces, Joel’s ready to find out who did this and give him a piece of his mind, except Joel really likes what he sees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exit Through The Gift Shop

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a prompt by remember-the-mole

It started for shits and giggles during the beginning of the summer. Ray along with Michael and Gavin in tow would mark up Austin’s brick and cement walls with spray paint. Making once red brick and off white cement now bright yellows and blacks, marking the walls with graffiti.  
These pieces of works didn’t have meaning like some of the ones they’ve seen before. It was all for fun and kept them for the most part out of trouble while their families weren’t at home or not awake, if they should be working aboard like Gavin’s family or catching an extra shift at the local diner like Michael’s mom or just sleeping like Ray’s dad.  
As it became the school year, and once longer days turned shorter and shorter Gavin and Michael wouldn’t go as often if at all because of mountains of school work but, Ray always went out because he had “easy classes” and his teachers otherwise felt bad for him because of his “situation”.  
His mom skipped out and is halfway across the country with a guy who Ray has never met but already hates. She left a letter before leaving, she said she was sorry but, that was only words on paper for Ray, he knows she wasn’t that sorry or else she would’ve had a talk about being with this guy, not leaving on a whim.  
This of course left a feeling of sadness and anger in the fourteen year olds body and that anger still resonates almost four years later.  
Which leads Ray onto Austin’s dark streets late at night with a backpack with recently bought spray paint. Ray knows it’s cheap paint and will take longer to fully markup that part of the wall fully but, it was worth saving a few dollars.  
He knows he can buy from the hardware store he works at and get an employee discount but his boss, Matt was always suspicious of the teen and would instantly catch on to what Ray does at night.  
His father never asked questions and Ray’s recent spike in marks has kept his father even quieter and at bay with questions because he must think whatever Ray is doing must be working, even if that means his son sneaks out of their small house late at night to only do something illegal with each night the chance of getting caught getting higher and higher.  
On a rather cool December night with Christmas fast approaching, Ray finds himself by a local bakery, his knapsack full of spray paint cans, most of which are half empty by his feet as he paints his new design. The time is past eleven at night and a yawn constantly hangs on Ray’s lips but he isn’t heading home until he is done or the sun starts to rise.  
As he goes along the wall, he notices that the grimy brick is covered by another piece of work, except this one wasn’t done by someone who is Ray’s age, this looked to be done by a professional.  
Ray steps back to take a look at the work in its entirely. An atomic bomb with the word “Democracy” painted across it, internally to look sloppy against the neat design of the bomb.  
This was obviously a stencil and Ray was impressed.  
The sound of ambulance sirens brings him back to reality and that what he is doing isn’t a cake walk and he has to get moving before either his father wakes up or the cops show up.  
As Ray continues what he doing, he accidentally sprays over part of the other person’s designs but with another round of sirens, this time for the police this leaves no time for apologies and rushes out of the alleyway and over the chainlink fence and speeding off to his home.  
Little does he realize that a can of red spray paint is left on the concrete floor, the one used for Ray’s piece of work. A rose, with it’s thrones covered in hastily painted blood.  
-  
The next morning Joel rolls awake to the sound of Geoff banging on his door which causes him to yell ‘What?”  
The door opens, making the light from the main hall stream through making Joel groan loudly, covering his eyes with his pillow.  
Geoff moved in with Joel after Jack got married to Caiti. Joel didn’t want to live alone and Geoff, the bartender at the pub across the street from the coffee shop that Joel works at. A once neat apartment is covered with bottles, enough that if recycled they could have enough for rent that month.  
“What do you want?” Joel groans.  
“Get up, it’s time for work.” Geoff says in a sing song tone then adding in a monotone voice “Dick.”  
“No.” Joel grumbles.  
Geoff leans against the doorframe and says “Well I guess the fact that somebody over painted your “artwork”. I guess you have some competition.”   
“What?” Joel asks, sitting up, now at full attention.  
“I mean it, it’s by the bakery.” Geoff confirms.  
Joel groans once more before saying “First I get you pounding at my door, now I find out that some kid is fucking up my art work.”  
Geoff comments “I’d hardly call it artwork.”  
‘I’m sorry Mr.Drink Connoisseur.” Joel sneers.  
“Just get up, your shift is going to start soon.” Geoff says then adding “If you go to work I’ll take you to that spot where that kid fucked up what you call artwork.” Then leaving the doorway, letting even more light in.  
Joel drags himself out of bed and into the cramped washroom that they share, that reeks of mildew and the faint scent of lemon from when Geoff left lemons in the bathtub for tequila at his work. Half way through the next morning a slightly hung over Joel went into the bathroom and into the bathtub to only step in lemons, squeezing them so their juices went everywhere.  
Joel stares into the mirror sleepily, he didn't get much sleep last night due to being at the north side of town, painting up the wall as a run down apartment complex that he has had his eyes on for a while now, the building was surprisingly untouched by what Joel considers “vandals”, it wasn’t littered with cheesy drawings and gang symbols, it was plain decaying concrete which to Joel was a dream come true and with Burnie’s help they made what Joel considers his largest piece of work. It was similar to the one painted by the bakery but, this one was much larger, no stencil was used and they had to bring a ladder, which only made them more suspicious if cops showed up.  
By the time they were done they walked to the closests park, sat in the grass and drank some beers before heading home to only wake up a few hours later for their shifts.  
Joel looks in the mirror, deciding if he should shave today or just let the scruff grow out another day.  
“Hurry it up, Heyman.” Geoff groans as he pounds on the frail door of the bathroom.  
“It’s open you idiot, there’s no need to knock.” Joel points out, still staring into the mirror.  
“Unless you want to see my dick, I advise you leave.” Geoff warns and he enters, pulling his shirt off, not caring if he hits Joel in the face with his elbow.  
Joel ducks when Geoff’s elbow comes flying in his direction, this makes him leave the washroom, flipping off Geoff as he walks back to his bedroom.  
The walls of his bedroom are chipped, revealing four different colours in patches along the walls, from grey, to blue, to red to orange. Joel did like the blue that takes up most of the left side of the wall, he wish he could figure out what color that was, maybe it would bring some order to his room.  
He puts on his uniform, apron and all before leaving without Geoff with him.  
Geoff didn’t have to start working till around three in the afternoon but, always hung around the workshop where his long time girlfriend Griffon works at.  
All of his friends seem to be with other people while Joel sits there with his spray paint and a suitcase of anger that he’s been carrying around for years. Maybe that’s why he can’t get a date, because right now the level of fucked up he’s at far exceeds either Jack or Geoff.  
Joel puts on his baseball hat with his coffee shop’s logo on it, a too happy for it’s own good coffee bean, dancing, with the shop’s words underneath saying “Small Coffee Bean”, the name to Joel was ridiculous but it did have a ring to it at times. The expression of the coffee bean contrasts greatly with Joel’s own, tired look.  
Joel walks down the hall to the elevator, every steps down the hall he swears that the floor beneath him is sinking under his weight.  
Everytime he walks down here he’s afraid that he’ll fall through the floor to the second level and end up in the first, to him it’ll be like an extremely painful elevator ride and it’ll make him late for his long and tiring shift.  
Once outside the building, Austin still feels warm for the morning in late December. He starts to walk down the street, the early sun still rising over the buildings as Joel makes his way to work.  
Work wasn’t too far away from the apartment, it’s a little family owned coffee shop sandwiched in between a grocery store and a karaoke bar that is always competing with the bar that geoff works at for patrons but, Joel knows that Geoff’s bar gets more customers by how many people are in there when Joel walks in at nine o’clock at any day of the week.  
The coffee shop that Joel now works at used to be a place where he was trying to write his screenplay, then that blew up in his face and was stolen by his last boyfriend after a messy break up, that was also around the same time that Joel started to spray paint. Once that mess cleared up Joel applied for a position at the coffee shop, at first it was making coffee and making sure the muffin didn’t burn in the oven in the back then he was moved up to cash, which he didn’t mind too much because he got to count all the money at the end of his shift and that was probably the best part of the whole job, Joel didn’t pocket any of the money that he had to count, he really loved the economy. Joel’s pretty sure if he can’t get with anyone, he’ll marry the economy.   
He’s original boss was really nice, always split the tips evenly with everyone shift or donated it to a charity that everyone agreed on. His boss had barbeques at the local park for all twenty of his employees and everyone enjoyed working there. Then about halfway through Joel’s second year of working there, having the best time there, the boss brought everyone together and told them that he has terminal cancer, at first it wasn’t a big deal and he didn’t want to worry anyone but, then nothing worked to combat it and it only got worse and worse.  
The shop itself closed for a week because with the news looming over everyone no one could focus or even bother to be in the shop. Another month passed after that and he died.  
That’s when Joel did his now second largest piece, a big risk for him at the time. It was a portrait of his old boss with wings sprouting out of his back, looking ready to take off, the shackle around his ankle and tied to the floor broken as if now he is free.  
A funeral was held and everyone’s jobs were at stake until his son decided to take charge of the shop, turning it on its head.  
His son was and still is prick, he takes all the tips for himself and when they decide to give it to charity, it only goes right back to himself, as one of Joel’s co-workers saw when he dump the money into a bag and leave with it during the middle of a shift, and they never got a letter or anything back from the place they were supposedly donated the money too like the usually do.  
It got to a boiling point with Joel and one night, long after Joel’s shift, Geoff and him slashed the new boss’ tires and they never got caught. Joel thinks that’s the only reason why he even bothers coming into work anymore.  
Some employees did leave and were replaced with snotty college students who Joel thought to be cute at first but, later turned out to be pretentious and rude. He hopes that his old boss will rise from his grave and punch his son out, that would make Joel’s life perfect.  
As he walks in, seeing two of the employees hanging up Christmas decorations. One of the cashiers looking irritated at them, Joel assumes that he doesn’t celebrate Christmas.  
As Joel walks behind the counter he leans to the other man and says “File a complaint.”  
“I can’t, I have a record. If I get fired there’s no other job I’m getting.”  
That was a common theme for the employees here, broke, formerly incarcerated, and/or desperate for work. That’s why so few left because every needs to pay the bills, even if that means having a terrible boss.  
His boss comes out of the back office with a sticky note in hand and yells “Heyman!”  
Joel let’s out a sigh and goes over to the over indulged man. His hair receding even though they are close in age, earlier to late twenties. His stomach stick outs, well past his belt, and his under arms drenched in sweat.   
“Yes… Sir.” Joel addresses cautiously.  
“I want you to write this on the chalkboard.” His boss demands, shoving a small sticky note into Joel’s hands before walking off.  
Joel wasn’t good at writing in chalk, he usually got a new employee to do it, some of them were art students so usually a cool drawing around pop culture was usually draw onto the black board. Joel could’ve half assed it but, the drawings were a whole different story, he can’t draw in chalk to save his life and if he could it would like the graffiti that is almost on every single building on this block; it would be the equivalent to a super hero revealing their identity with a billboard, and also Joel would probably be fired.  
As soon as he gets the sticky note in his hand he finds a girl in the back, she has to be under eighteen so it makes Joel feel uncomfortable talking to her privately, in fear that the police would burst in and arrest him.  
He asks her to write this on the chalkboard and she happily agrees before winking at him and walking off.  
What a perfect start to a perfect day, feeling like a creep before ten in the morning.  
By the time his shift ends, Geoff is waiting outside on his bicycle.  
He used to have a car but, his ex-girlfriend showed up one day and stole the car. She just went into the parking lot and took the car, out of the blue with no definite reason. Geoff since then has borrowed a bicycle from Griffon until he can buy a new car, or find out where the old one is.  
“I’m guessing I’m standing on the pegs again?” Joel asks, taking his baseball cap off.  
“Yeah. Also what the fuck happened to the front of your apron.”  
Joel takes a good look at it and sighs “You don’t want to know.”  
“I want to know, I want to know very much.” Geoff points out, nodding his head a bit.  
Joel sighs and replies “Fine, I’ll tell you on the way to the bakery.” Then walks over to the bike and stands on the pegs, holding Geoff so he doesn’t fall off.  
They go down two blocks and Joel starts to explain what happened.  
“A man in a suit, spilt his coffee on the table I was cleaning, getting on my apron. It was really hot and it narrowly missed my hands. Now instead of saying sorry, this guy starts yelling at me and I have to get him another coffee, I spat in it though.” Joel explains, holding onto Geoff tightly as he goes over a hill.  
“Good for you!” Geoff chuckles, as he speeds down the main road.  
“I still think that it’s ridiculous how we have to ride a bike.” Joel comments as they get closer to the bakery.  
Geoff responds “It’s not my fault, this is all I got, plus I thought you’d like this.” Then Geoff’s voice gets low “Because you like penis and all.”  
Joel smacks Geoff in his scruffy face and says “Don’t be a dick.”  
“I don’t care, I’m all for whatever you’re into, as long as you don’t get sick; I know you feel the same about me.”  
“You’ve been with Griffon forever, so I’m not too worried. Also I’m not getting any, not while I’m still spray painting.” Joel explains.  
“Then stop it then.” Geoff says, as if that thought hasn’t crossed Joel’s mind already.  
“This is the only way I don’t break down. Give me some time or somebody to date.” Joel respiles.  
“You know I try, Joel. Maybe one of these days, plus we’re still younger. Fresh out of college with useless degrees and no paths in life.” Geoff explains, stopping the bike and getting off and then putting an arm around Joel.  
“Geoff, you never went to college. Now can you show me this kid’s work.” Joel says, then slowly getting off the bike.  
They go into the alley way and Joel instantly sees where their works over lap.  
Joel let’s out a sigh and notices the dropped can.  
He picks it up and says to Geoff “Cover me.”  
The other man nods before walking off the beginning of the alleyway, a look out for the police. It’s broad daylight and Joel is marking up a wall, this is something he almost never did.  
Joel quickly leaves a note saying “Don’t fuck with my work, kid.” then drops the can and leaves the alley way feeling satisfied about what he did.  
“Last time you had that look was when we slashed your boss’ tires.” Geoff chuckles as they walk back to the bike.  
“I’m going to stop by for a bit to see if I could catch him.” Joel says as he steps onto the pegs, trying his best to keep steady till geoff gets on the bike.  
“Sure that’s safe?” Geoff asks as he gets onto the bike.  
“It isn’t a gang sign so, he must be somewhat safe.” Joel shrugs as Geoff pedals away.  
“How do you even know he’ll be there?” Geoff asks.  
Joel shrugs and says “I just know as someone in his position.”  
Geoff says as he starts to pedal up the first small hill “God, I hope you’re right.”  
-  
By eleven at night Ray slinks back into the alley way he was in the night before, the dim street light near by seeming more dim than last night but, maybe that’s because Ray is running on little sleep and little food, he didn’t eat lunch and didn’t have time for dinner because of a detention that lasted longer than it should have.  
He looks around before noticing that his can that he dropped last night. That’s the reason why he couldn’t sleep, he knew he dropped it and was afraid the cops were going to trace it back to him. Ray shoves it back into his bag, and looks at his rose from last night. He notices that someone has put something above his rose, small streams of paint have dripped down which makes Ray notice. He looks up and sees the words “Don’t fuck with my work, kid.” the word “kid” sparks something in Ray which makes him grab a can of blue spray paint and paint the words “Try me, kid. I’ll be here, I want to see your face - Tuxedo Mask.” then walks away from the scene, deciding today he’s going to go home a bit early.  
-  
By the time Ray finishes his message, Joel is asleep in his lumpy bed. He stayed there for an hour with no sign of this “kid” and just went home, giving up all hope of getting to him because exhaustion gets the best of him.  
When Joel finishes his shift the next morning, asking Geoff that morning if he could bring Joel to the bakery again to Geoff’s agreement with the added “You have to buy me a cookie tomorrow morning.” and puppy dog eyes which Joel was forced to agree with.  
With a song from an “underground” group stuck in his head that he hums along to as Geoff bikes down to the bakery. Once at the alley way the humming stops immediately when Joel sees Ray’s response.  
Geoff sees the response and goes “Oh fuck.”  
“I’m going to kill this kid.” Joel grumbles.  
“You mean Tuxedo Mask?” Geoff corrects, still looking at the message that covers all of Joel’s original work.  
Joel kicks the wall and says “That’s stupid.”  
“Do you have a name that’s any better?” Geoff asks, looking at Joel.  
Joel goes quiet and Geoff leads him out of the alley way, Joel makes silent oath to find this so called “Tuxedo Mask” tonight.  
As they get back on the bike Geoff asks as he bikes along “So what is your street name?”  
Joel replies in a quiet, embarrassed tone “The Economist”  
“Wow, I’m surprised you don’t get laid as often.” Geoff barks, laughing as well.  
Joel punches Geoff which almost makes them fall off the bike.  
“I hate you.” They both grumble in unison.  
Joel stays there for more than an hour, drinking cold coffee that he bought before the shop closed for the night, he was saving it till exhaustion washed over him but, the bitter and cold taste jerked him awake for another half an hour, thats when Tuxedo Mask showed up.  
Joel sees him go into the alleyway, Joel soon crosses the street and soon ducks into the alleyway himself.  
“Hey.” Joel growls, trying to sound intimidating.  
Expecting a gang member, druggie or someone closer to Joel’s age; instead Joels ees a thin young Puerto Rican boy, with a backpack full of what Joel assumes are spray paint cans.  
Ray’s eyes go wide and he steps back, fear consuming him.  
This strikes guilt into Joel, seeing how the kid reacts. Joel takes a step forward and Ray takes a step back.  
“I’m sorry kid, actually why am I saying sorry? You’re the one who fucked up my work, twice.” Joel argues, crossing his arms  
“I thought you were my age.” Ray defends  
“Well, I thought likewise.” Joel comments.  
Ray relaxes a bit and asks ‘What do you want?”  
“What do you want? You’re the one who told me to be here.” Joel asks, taking a step forward.  
“I was angry okay? I got a lot of shit going on right now.” Ray growls in defense.  
Joel gets more into the teen’s face and says “Say here, kid or should I say Tuxedo Mask.” He mocks at the end.  
“If my street name is so bad, what’s yours?” Ray growls.  
Joel goes quiet for a moment and replies “Golden Touch.”  
“Wow a shitty artist and a shitty liar.” Ray exclaims.  
“How do you know that I’m lying then?” Joel asks, yelling at this point.  
Ray steps back, now covered by darkness and he replies as he looks at the ground “I looked you up, it took me forever but, I looked you up because I wanted to know what I was up against. I wanted to know who you were, The Economist.”  
They stay quiet for a moment and Joel says “As one street artist to another, don’t fuck around with this shit. Don’t be a mediocre bitch, add feeling into it then all that shit in your head will start to sort itself out.” Then leans over and touches Ray’s shoulder.  
‘What’s your real name?” Ray asks, looking from the cement ground to Joel.  
Joel chuckles and replies “I can’t really tell you, right now.”  
Ray let’s out a noise of disappointment and Joel adds “But, we can make a deal.”  
“What is it?” Ray asks, arching an eyebrow.  
“You start actually being a street artist and I’ll think of a place and time where I can tell you my name. Not in some dingy alleyway at eleven o’clock on a Wednesday.” Joel explains.  
“How will you know it’s me or where to find my stuff?” Ray asks.  
“You and I are in the same area, I’m surprised I haven’t found you sooner.” Joel replies.  
Ray let’s out a sigh and replies “Fine, but you have to keep your end of the deal.”   
“I’ll leave our meeting place behind Barney’s bar three block south, my friend Geoff works there.”  
“I’m not able to drink.” Ray points out.  
‘It’ll be outside the building, kid.” Joel assures, taking his hand off of Ray’s shoulder.  
Ray nods, trying to remember where Barney's bar is.  
“You should get going kid, now remember; take all that fucked up shit and make those walls worth something.”Joel says, before walking away.  
“Wait.” Ray says.  
Joel turns around and Ray continues “Don’t call me, kid. Don’t give me advice then only call me ‘kid’. Also it makes it sound like you’re a lot fucking older.”  
“How old do you think I am?” Joel asks, with a smile on his face.  
“Eighteen?” Ray suggests.  
Joel chuckles and says “In your dreams.” Then walks away, leaving a confused and embarrassed Ray behind him.  
\-   
Over the next month Ray takes Joel’s advice; making his works have more feeling into it. Works about abandonment, men stealing away once loving mothers, houses in which a young boy can sneak out and markup city buildings with these works. With each day, Joel passes by at least one of these works, each time more impressed as time wears on.  
He starts to think of Ray as a protege of his but, as Ray’s works become more heartfelt, he starts to think of Ray as something more than that or something that can become more than that.   
Ray is feeling more frustrated, he doesn't understand why he is doing this and it feels so good in the process. He doesn’t understand why he wants some guys approval, why he wants to please some fucking idiot that thinks he’s better than him.   
This lingers in Ray’s mind one night and instantly stops what is doing when the word “love” comes to his mind. Maybe he is in love with this older idiot. These thoughts plague Ray’s mind, he thinks about how his face looked going over every single little detail from that night over a month ago.  
Another week pasees with Ray still doing his pieces but, having to move more south in the city because he’s running out of buildings to do his pieces on, one night at the beginning of the previous week Ray had to take the bus to get to a building that he hasn’t already done a piece on. He goes behind a bar near by as he does almost every night to check for a message from the idiot that Ray now admits that he is in love with, the music thumping inside the building with a steady beat as if it’s hooked up to Ray’s pulse.  
As he gets closer to the cement and brick wall he sees painted in all black over all the other grafitti on the wall “Small Coffee Bean, 19h, on the 11th.” with a poorly done portrait of the man himself with little wings sprouting out of his back, Ray knows it’s not meant to look like the older man but, he can see the resemblance. Ray can’t forget a face like his, even if this piece of work has very simple features.  
Ray knows that he is talking in code just in case someone tries to find them.   
He just got asked out in the most unconventional way by someone he’s met once and all by borderline stalking because this other artist had a grudge against the teen for messing up one simple design.   
Ray fishes out a can of red spray paint from his knapsack and replies underneath “Yes, I’ll remember the red.” then draws a messy rose underneath, now his signature for all of his works.  
Red meaning spray paint, Ray knows that they’ll mark buildings together on Saturday. With a smirk on his face, Ray steps back, throwing the can back into the bag as he looks at the message to him.  
“I guess I'll see you Saturday night.” Ray smiles to himself before picking the knapsack up and walking out from behind the building.  
Ray really can’t wait till Saturday night, maybe then he’ll finally get to know the other man’s name and finally get to say words that have been hanging from his lips “I think I might love you.”.


End file.
